XXLAND IS ALWAYS UP FOR A PARTY
Welcome to join us for an open performance, workshop, game event at our + Change Space in Kalmar. You’ll be meeting with XXLAND’S two political parties: The Bastion and The Wander Parties. After you’ve experienced whatever these cunning spinsters (propaganda strategists) have planned for you, it’s time for you to take part and vote for your new future great leaders.
The region of XXLAND depends on You You You!
This post is a part of a course on Propaganda and advertising where the Visual Communication + Change students are in a hypernormal game world aiming to win the upcoming elections.
Bext regards,
The Game Master
Welcome to XXLAND
The morning mist rises from the sea in slow enveloping plums, extending into the nearby meadows, across the fields where the animals are waking, and into the Kxalmar town square. It seems as though nothing has changed in the capital city for thousands of years. Small vendors selling their wares from familiar carts lining the streets, there is a great noise from the people gathering to set up shop for the day. Clusters of little ones are yawningly moving towards a day in schxool; while some are hurrying to xxtra work duties before their home schxooling.
Once the mist has disappeared there is palpable excitement in the air. It is a time of tradition. Of great celebration and anticipation for the most revered holiday, election day.
After the royal family was fully dismantled, sent into NGO and charity work, or on the reality TV circuit, or even worse, one unfortunate princess found herself on TVxShop selling ponchos from Paula Deen’s signature collection, yet that is a different story—the shift to the country’s dedication to national politics has only intensified.
In this season, there is folk dancing every night lead by a local dansband after the paramilitary youth group, Småxxkrypen, marches to the square to light the ceremonial fire that stays aflame for the entirety of the month. Holograms of political affiliations are projected from the eyes of dedicated citizens, along with a more rapid scrolling through the psychic feeds that hang above everyone’s head like an uneasy cloud. This is also a time of great conflict, as there is a line drawn in the sand. The flags of both parties are often found charred, thrown into the sea, or simply stolen. There are regular disruptions to the XXLAND anthem sounding in the square that do not go unnoticed as tensions continue to rise. On one side the magnificent Bastionities shaping their hands into jagged horns in the air, on the other their majestic adversaries stand with chins held high and with booming voices leashing into the square’s energetic cacophony of:
Oh XXLAND,
Oh XXLAND,
Long live the people of our great nation,
Long live our people, united and free.
Built by the hands of the young and the proud,
Raise the flag for all to see.
Oh XXLAND,
Oh XXLAND,
Yes, I want to live, I want to die in XXLAND.